Ezra Pound - Quia Pauper Amavi, Egoist Press (London, 1918) by rodrigo olavarria

QUIA PAUPER AMAVI

QUIA PAUPER

AMAVI EZRA POUND

LONDON: THE EGOIST LTD. 23

ADELPHI TERRACE HOUSE, W.C,

Orfeo

CONTENTS PAGE

LANGUE o'Oc

I-V

MOEURS CONTEMPORAINES

I-VIII

THREE CANTOS

HOMAGE TQ

SEXTUS PROPERTIUS

.32

I-XII

Of these poems the The Cantos and four

The Little Review." groups appeared in fragments of the Propertius appeared first in first

"The New

"Poetry" (Chicago).

Langue d'Oc

Acknowledgements are

offered to the editors of these periodicals.

also

appeared in

Age."

LANGUE D'OC Alba

HEN

the nightingale to his mate Sings day-long and night late love and I keep state

In bower, In flower,

watchman on

'Till the

the

tower

Cry:

Up ! I see

Thou rascal, Rise, the white Light

And the

night Flies."

Compleynt of a gentleman who has been 'waiting outside for some time

PLASMATOUR and

true celestial light,

Lord powerful, engirdled

all

with might,

Give

Who

my good-fellow aid in fools' despite stirs not forth this night, And

" Sst

day comes on.

my good fellow, art awake or sleeping ? I see the star upleaping Sleep thou no more. That hath the dawn in keeping, !

And "

day comes on

Hi Harry, hear me, for I sing aright Sleep not thou now, I hear the bird in flight That plaineth of the going of the night, !

And

day comes on

Come now

Old swenkin

Rise up from thy bed,

see the signs upon the welkin spread, If thou come not, the cost be on thy head.

And day comes on "

And here I am since going down of sun, And pray to God that is St. Mary's son, To bring thee safe back, my companion. And day comes

on.

" And thou out here beneath the porch of stone Badest me to see that a good watch was done, And now thou'lt none of me, and wilt have none Of song of mine." (Bass voice from within.}

"Wait,

my good

For such joy

fellow.

With her venust and

take

my make

noblest to

hold embraced, and will not her forsake For yammer of the cuckold, Though day break." (Girart Borne Ho.)

Avril

WHEN

the springtime

And

sweet

the birds repeat Their new song in the leaves,

'Tis

meet

man go where he

But from where

message

heart

all

will.

heart

set

get;

wakes and grieves

;

Defeat

luck,

must have

fill.

Our love comes out Like the branch that turns about On the top of the hawthorne, 8

With

frost

and

hail at night

Suffers despite 'Till the sun come,

and the green leaf on the bough.

remember the young day

When we set strife away, And she gave me such gesning, Her God

love and her ring grant 1 die not by any man's stroke 'Till I have my hand 'neath her cloak. :

care not for their clamour

Who

have come between me and my charmer, know how words run loose, and little use. talk Big of pleasure, Spoilers take their measure.

For

(Guilhem de

Ill

Descant on a Theme by Cerclamon

WHEN

the sweet air goes bitter,

And the cold birds twitter Where the leaf falls from the

twig,

sough and sing that

Love goes out

Leaving me no power

to hold him.

Of love

I have naught Save troubles and sad thought,

And

nothing

grievous as

desirous,

Wanting only what No man can get or has got.

With If

all

the noblest that stands in men's sight, the world be in despite I

care not a glove.

Peitieu.')

Where my love is, there is a glitter of sun God give me life, and let my course run 'Till

To I

do not

Nor

feel

For love

Nor do

have her I love with and prove.

lie

nor cure me,

live,

ache

;

great as

will give

know when For

no 1

respite,

turn

in her is all

And

it is,

left

or right nor when

go out.

delight that can save me.

all

shake and burn and quiver love, awake and in swevyn, Such fear I have she deliver me not from pain, Who know not how to ask her ; Who can not. Two years, three years I seek I

From

And though

fear to

speak out,

must know it. If she won't have me now, Death she

Still

Would came

God

How

portion

had died that day

into her sway.

softly this kills

When

her love look steals on me. Killed me she has, I know not how it was, For I would not look on a woman.

Joy

Good

have none,

if she

set

is it

make me not mad

quiet, or bid she flout

chatter.

turn me inside out, and about. ill doth she turn sweet. How swift it is. Pleasure is 'neath her

My For

traist

and

loose,

true, or a liar, All vile, or all gentle, I

Or shaking between, 10

as she desire,

feet.

Cerclamon, sorry and glad,

The man whom

love had

and has ever

;

whoe'er it please or pain, She can me retain.

Alas

I am gone from one joy, From one I loved never so much,

She by one touch Reft me away ; So doth bewilder me I can not say my say nor

And when It

seems to

Worn

and

lose

all

wit and sense.

men

love not as a glove prize

noblest girls

'Gainst her

desire,

me I

The

my me

she looks on

old.

Though

the whole world run rack

And go

dark with cloud,

Light

Where

And

she stands, a clamour loud in

ears.

IV Vergkr orchard under the hawthorne She has her lover till morn, Till the traist man cry out to warn

Them.

God how

swift the night,

And

day comes on.

Plasmatour, that thou end not the night, take my beloved from my sight, on daylight, I, nor tower-man, look 'Fore God, How swift the night,

Nor Nor

And day comes ii

on.

Lovely thou

art, to

hold

and

kisst,

Now

cry the birds out, in the meadow mist, Despite the cuckold, do thou as thou list,

swiftly goes the night

And "

day comes on.

pretty boy, make we our play again in the orchard where the birds complain,

Here

'Till the traist

Ah God

watcher his song unrein,

How

swift the night

And

day comes on."

" Out of the wind that blows from her, That dancing and gentle is and pleasanter,

Have

Ah God

drunk !

a draught, sweeter than scent of swift the night.

How

And day comes Venust the lady,- and none lovelier, For her great beauty, many men look on Out of my love will her heart not stir.

By God, how

myrrh.

on."

her,

swift the night.

And

day comes on.

Canzon

ONLY,

and who

elrische pain support

Know out love's heart o'erborne by overlove, For my desire that is so firm and straight And unchanged since I found her in my sight And unturned since she came within my glance, That far from her my speech springs up aflame

;

Near her comes

not.

So press the words

to arrest

it.

blind to others, and their retort hear not. In her alone, I see, move, Wonder. . . . And jest not. And the words dilate Not truth ; but mouth speaks not the heart outright I

could not walk roads, flats, dales, hills, by chance, find charm's sum within one single frame As God hath set in her t'assay and test it. I

And I have passed in many a goodly court To find in hers more charm than rumour thereof Measure and sense to mate, In solely hers. Youth and beauty learned in all delight, Gentrice did nurse her up, and so advance Her fair beyond all reach of evil name, To clear her worth, no shadow hath oppresst

Her

contact

flats

not out,

falls

not off short.

it.

Let her, I pray, guess out the sense hereof For never will it stand in open prate Until

inner heart stand in daylight,

So that heart pools him when her eyes entrance, As never doth the Rhone, fulled and untame, Pool, where the freshets tumult hurl to crest it. Flimsy another's joy,

false

and

distort,

paregale that she springs not above Her love-touch by none other mensurate.

have

God

Shall

Alas Though the pains bite but galzeardy and dance, thought my lust hath touched his aim. not ?

Deep, torture

For

get no

fact to best

delight 1, from now, in dance or sport, will these toys a tinkle of pleasure prove,

Nor

to her, whom no loud profligate Shall leak abroad how much she makes right. If she count not mischance Is this too much ?

Compared

What Then

But if she blame, then no. hath expresst that out the tongue ye

have

tear

The song

said,

it.

begs you Count not this speech ill chance, But if you count the song worth your acclaim, Arnaut cares lyt who praise or who contest it. :

(Arnaut Daniel, a.d. about 1190.) 13

MOEURS CONTEMPORAINES I

Mr. Styrax

HECATOMB STYRAX,

MR.

the

owner of

large estate

and of large muscles, " blue " and a climber of mountains, has married at the

at that

being The term " virgo

a virgin, age "

being

made male

age of 28,

in mediaeval latinity

;

His ineptitudes

Have driven his wife from one religious excess to another. She has abandoned the vicar For he was lacking in vehemence ; She is now the high-priestess Of a modern and ethical cult, And even now Mr. Styrax Does not

believe in aesthetics.

His brother has taken to gipsies, But the son-in-law of Mr. H. Styrax Objects to perfumed cigarettes. In the parlance of Niccolo Macchiavelli, " " Thus things proceed in their circle ; And thus the empire is maintained.

Clara

sixteen she

was a potential

With a distaste She now writes

celebrity

for caresses.

to me from a convent Her life is obscure and troubled Her second husband will not divorce her Her mind is, as ever, uncultivated, And no issue presents itself.

;

She does not

desire,

her children,

Or any more children. Her ambition is vague and She

will neither stay in,

indefinite,

nor come out.

Ill

Soiree

learning that the mother wrote verses, that the father wrote verses, that the youngest son was in a publisher's office, that the friend of the second daughter was undergoing a novel,

And And

UPON And

The young American Exclaimed

pilgrim

" This

a darn'd clever

bunch

" !

IV Sketch

the age of 27 home mail is

Its

And

its office

still

mail

its

It is

opened by

its

maternal parent

may be opened by parent of the opposite gender.

officer,

and

a gentleman,

and an

architect.

" Nodier raconte

of my wife's there is a photograph, faded, pale, brownish photograph, Of the times when the sleeves were large, stiff and large above the lacertus^

a friend

Silk,

That

And

the upper arm,

is,

decollete.

It is a lady,

She

sits at a

harp,

Playing,

And by Is

her

left foot, in a

basket,

an infant, aged about 14 months,

The The The

infant beams at the parent, parent re-beams at its offspring. basket is lined with satin, There is a satin-like bow on the harp.

And

in the

There

You And

home of the novelist bow on an harp.

a satin-like

enter and pass hall after hall conservatory follows conservatory,

Lilies

lift

their white symbolical cups,

Their symbolical pollen is excerpted, Near them I noticed an harp

And And And

the blue satin ribbon, " the copy of u Hatha Yoga the neat piles of unopened, unopening books,

And And

she spoke to me of the monarch, of the purity of her soul.

VI Stele

years of continence

he hurled himself into a sea of six women. as the brand of Meleagar, he lies by the poluphloisboious sea-coast.

AFTER Now, quenched

Oiva IloXv^XoiaCoio 0aXa(T<rr/. SISTE VIATOR.

VII

Vecchii

HEY will come The

old

men

no more, with beautiful manners,

comme un

tout petit garden of apples And sticking out all the way round ; " Con e tardi," Blagueur ! gli occhi onesti II

tait

With

And

his blouse full

he said

Abelard," as

the topic

Were much too abstruse for his comprehension, And he talked about " the Great Mary," And said " Mr. Pound is shocked at my levity," :

When And

turned out he meant Mrs. Ward.

the other was rather like

my bust by Gaudier, Texas colonel, He said " Why flay dead horses ? " There was once a man called Voltaire." Or

like a real :

And

he said they used to cheer Verdi,

after the opera, the guards couldn't stop

Rome,

And

them

And

that

was an anagram for Vittorio

Emanuele Re D'

And

Italia,

the guards couldn't stop them.

Old men with

beautiful manners, of a morning, Walking on the Chelsea Embankment.

Row

Sitting in the

VIII Ritratto

she said

ANDHe "

And And

said

she said

"You remember Mr. "

And c

stomped into

said

< :

ask you,

Do I, Do I

" { Care too much " "

bedroom.

that time she had got on to Browning.) . bedroom. . stomped into

"... "

And

Lowell,

was your ambassador here ? " That was before I arrived."

(By

for society dinners I wouldn't say that he didn't.

Shelley used to live in this house."

She was a very old lady, never saw her again.

THREE CANTOS I

it all,

But say

HANG

there can be but the one " Sordello," to, say I take your whole bag of

want

tricks,

Let in your quirks and tweeks, and say the thing's an form,

Your "

" Sordello," and that the such a rag-bag to stuff all

modern world

Needs

its

art-

" 1

thought in ; I that and dump my catch, shiny Say silvery As fresh sardines flapping and slipping on the marginal

Ragionar

cobbles ? stand before the booth (the speech), but the truth Is inside this discourse this booth is full of the marrow of I

wisdom. Give up the

intaglio

method

Tower by tower, the rounded bases, and the plan Follows the builder's whim ; Beaucaire's slim gray Leaps from the stubby base of Altaforte Red-brown

Mohammed's windows, for the Alcazar Has such a garden, split by a tame small stream The moat is ten yards wide, the inner court-yard Haifa-swim with mire. Trunk-hose ? There are

The rough men swarm out not. In robes that are half Roman, half like the Knave of Hearts,

And

discern your story

Peire Cardinal Was half fore-runner of Dante. Arnaut's the trick Of the unfinished address, And half your dates are out ; you mix your eras ; For that great font, Sordello sat beside 19

Browning's "Bordello"

'Tis an immortal passage, but the font Is some two centuries outside the picture And no matter.

Ghosts move about me patched with histories. business to set out so much thought. So much emotion, and call the lot " Sordello."

You had your Worth

And Has

the evasion, the setting figures

breathing it

life

a place in

upon them.

music

And your

" :

? Appear Verona walk the airy street, !

See the small cobbles flare with poppy spoil. 'Tis your " Great Day," the Corpus Domini, And all my chosen and peninsular village

Has spread this scarlet blaze upon its lane, Oh, before I was up, with poppy flowers. Mid-June, and up and out to the half ruined

chapel,

Not

the old place at the height of the rocks But that splay barn-like church, the Renaissance Had never quite got into trim again. As well begin here, here began Catullus :

Home

to sweet rest, and to the waves deep laughter," laugh they wake amid the border rushes. This is our home, the trees are full of laughter, And the storms laugh loud, breaking the riven waves

The

square-shaled rocks, and here the sunlight Glints on the shaken waters, and the rain Comes forth with delicate tread, walking from Isola Garda,

Soleils p/ovit,

the sun rains, and a spatter of fire " Darts from the " Lydian ripples, lacus undae, And the place is full of spirits, not lemures, Not dark and shadow-wet ghosts, but ancient living, Wood-white, smooth as the inner-bark, and firm of aspect It is

And

all

gleam with colour?

Not But coloured

like the lake

GLAUKOPOS,

and olive

a-gleam, leaves,

clothed like the poppies, wearing golden

greaves,

Light on the

The

air.

Are they Etruscan gods

air is solid sunlight, apricus.

Sun-fed we dwell there (we in England now) For Sirmio serves my whim, better than Asolo, Yours and unseen. Your palace step? My stone seat was the Dogana's vulgarest curb, And there were not " those girls," there was one flare, One face, 'twas all 1 ever saw, but it was real And I can no more say what shape it was But she was young, too young. True, it was Venice, And at Florian's under the North arcade I have seen other faces, and had my rolls for breakfast, Drifted at night and seen the lit, gilt cross-beams Glare from the Morosini. And for what it's worth I have my background and you had your background, .

;

Watched " the soul," Bordello's soul, flare up And lap up life, and leap " to th' Empyrean "

;

Worked

out the form, meditative, semi-dramatic, Semi-epic story ; and what's left ? Pre-Daun-Chaucer, Pre-Boccaccio? Not Arnaut,

Not Uc

St. Circ.

Gods

float in the

azure

air,

Bright gods and Tuscan, back before dew was shed ; It is a world like Puvis ? Never so pale my friend, '

'Tis the

And

first

light

oak-girls

not half-light

Our Lies in

its

Panisks

and the Maelids have

all

the

wood

;

olive Sirmio

burnished mirror, and the

Mounts Balde and

Riva

Are

alive with song, and all the leaves are full of voices. " Non Jfuggi" " It is not Metastasio gone." Is right, we have that world about us. And the clouds bowe above the lake, and there are folk

upon them Going their windy ways, moving by Riva,

By the western shore, far as Lonato, And the water is full of silvery almond-white swimmers, The silvery water glazes the upturned nipple. C

" When

We let

Atlas sat

brother

down with

his astrolabe,

Prometheus, physicist."

Ficino

our progress, say it was Moses' birth year ? Exult with Shang in squatness? The sea-monster Bulges the squarish bronzes. Daub out, with blue of scarabs, Egypt, Start us

Green veins

in the turquoise

Or gray Lead up beneath

Temple

gradual steps

sprays of heavy cedars of teak-wood, and the gilt brown arches flat

tier, banners woven by wall, Fine screens depicted sea-waves curled high, Small boats with gods upon them, Bright flame above the river Kuanon, Footing a boat that's but one lotus petal,

Triple in

With some proud four-square genius Leading along, one hand upraised for gladness, " 'Tis she, his friend, the mighty Goddess. Saying, Sing hymns, ye reeds, and all ye roots, and herons, and swans, be glad. of the nymphs, put forth your flowers." I of this life ?

Ye gardens What have

pleasant Believe the

lie

that

tomb he

not even

Or even of Guido ? knew Or San Michaele, leapt

was Julia Laeta's,

know which sword

he'd with

him

the

street-charge.

have but smelt this life, a whiff of The box of scented wood I

Recalls cathedrals.

Confuse

Shall I claim

it,

;

my own

phantastikon Or say the filmy shell that circumscribes me Contains the actual sun ; confuse the thing I see With actual gods behind me ? Are they gods behind Worlds we have, how many worlds we have. 22

me ?

If Botticelli

Brings her ashore on that great cockle-shell, His Venus (Simonetta?), and Spring And Aufidus fill all the air

With their clear-outlined blossoms? World enough. Behold I say, she comes

" Apparelled like the Spring, Graces her subjects ("Pericles"), Such worlds enough we have, have brave decors

And from these like we guess a soul for man And build him full of aery populations, (Panting and Faustus),

Mantegna a sterner line, and the new world about us Barred lights, great flares, and write to paint, not music, :

Casella.

VIRGILIO

mio,"

Send out your thought upon the Mantuan palace, Drear waste, great halls; pigment flakes from the

stone ; Forlorner quarter Silk tatters

still

in the frame,

Gonzaga's splendour,

Where do we come upon the ancient people, Or much or little, Where do we come upon the ancient people ? " All that I know is that a certain star " All that I know of one, Joios, Tolosan, Is that in

middle May, going along

scarce discerned path, turning aside In " level poplar lands," he found a flower, " a la primera flor," he wrote,

and wept

Qu'ieu

One

trobei, tornei em plor." I it, I've lost the copy

stave of

Out of a

had of

blue and gilded manuscript Couci's rabbits, a slim fellow throwing dice,

Purported portraits serving in

capitals.

;

in Paris,

Joios

have, by such a margent stream,

He strayed in the field, wept for a flare of colour When Coeur de Lion was before Chalus ;

Arnaut's a score of songs, a wry sestina ; The rose-leaf casts her dew on the ringing glass, Dolmetsch will build our age in witching music, Viols da Gamba, tabors, tympanons.

Yin-yo laps in the reeds, my guest departs, The maple leaves blot up their shadows,

The sky

is full of Autumn, drink our parting in saki. Out of the night comes troubling lute music,

And we cry out, asking And get this answer

the singer's name,

Brought

And my

Many

one

rich presents, my hair was full of jade, slashed skirts were drenched in the secret dyes,

Well dipped

in crimson, and sprinkled with rare wines was well taught my arts at Ga-ma-rio And then one year I faded out and married."

;

The

lute-bowl hid her face.

Society, her sparrows,

Catullus

heard her weeping.

Venus' sparrows.

hung on the phrase (played with

" Reveuse Played for a fan : pour Wrote out his crib from Sappho

Mallarm6

que je plonge.")

;

God's peer, yea and the very gods are under him Facing thee, near thee ; and my tongue is heavy. And along my veins the fire ; and the night is Thrust down upon me. That was one way oflove,JIamma demanat^ " I love her as a And in a year

And And

scare a year, " in ten moons

Your words "

father," are written in water,"

Caelius, Lesbia Caelius, Lesbia, our Lesbia, that Lesbia

Whom

Catullus once loved

ilia,

Than his own soul and all his friends, " Is now the drab of every lousy Roman So much for him who puts his trust in woman. ;

When I was there Dordoigne There came a centaur, spying the land And there were nymphs behind him Or procession on procession by Salisbury, !

Ancient in various days, long years between them ; Ply over ply of life still wraps the earth here. Catch at Dordoigne Vicount St. Antoni " " D'amor miei cossir tug hight Raimon Jordans Of land near Caortz. The Lady of Pena " Gentle and highly prized." And he was good at arms and bos trobaire^ " Thou art the pool of worth, flood-land of pleasure, And all my heart is bound about with love, As rose in trellis that is bound over and over " ; Thus they were taken in love beyond all measure. But the Vicount Pena Went making war into an hostile country, And was sore wounded. The news held him dead, " And at this news she had great grief and teen," And gave the church such wax for his recovery That he recovered, " " And at this news she had great grief and teen And fell a-moping, drove off St. Antoni, " Thus was there more than one in deep distress," So ends that novel. Here the blue Dordoigne Placid between white cliffs, pale As the background of a Leonardo. Elis of Montfort Then sent him her invitations (wife of de Gordon). !

It juts into

the sky,

Gordon

that

is,

Like a thin spire. Blue night pulled down about it Like tent-flaps or sails close hauled. When I was there, La Noche de San Juan^ a score of players Were straddling about the streets in masquerade, Pike-staves and paper helmets, and the booths

Were

scattered align, the rag ends of the False arms, true arms flood of people storming about Spain

fair

My Cid rode up to Burgos, to the studded gate between two towers, 25

Beat with his lance butt.

girl child

Comes

of nine years

to the shrine-like platform in the wall, out the words a-whisper, the King's writ Lisps Let no man speak to Diaz (Ruy Diaz,

Myo Cid) give him help or food, on pain of death His heart upon a pike, his eyes torn out, his goods sequestered. Cid from Bivar, for empty perches of dispersed hawks, Or

From empty presses, Came riding with his company up (Afe Minayal)

the great

hill

in the Spring,

Burgos

And thence to fighting, to down-throw of Moors And to Valencia rode he. By the beard Muy velida Of onrush of lances, of splintered staves !

Riven and broken casques, dismantled

castles

Of painted shields split up, blazons hacked Piled men and bloody rivers. Or " " Of sombre reflected armour light upon When De las Nieblas sails "

And

dar nueva lumbre las armas y hierros portents in the wind, a pressing air ;

Full

many

fathomed sea-change

That sought with him the

Rumble of

;

off,

in the eyes

salt sea victories,

balladist.

Another gate ghost comes back to explain How well the young man fenced who ended him. Another gate :

And Kumasaka's :

Afield, a king

Atween " "

Muy

The come

kernelled walls of Toro, in

almenas y

the chinks aloft flashes the armoured figure, linda ", !

Helen

a star,"

Lights the king's features

use my liege. Breaks in Ancures.

She

your highness'

Mai fuego Such are the gestes of war.

the

young

tire-woman,

prince loved her, Pedro,

sister,"

s'enciende

Court sinecure, the court of Portugal,

And

las

an unjust cause,

" !

later, Cruel. Jealousy, two stabbed her, Courtiers, with king's connivance. And he, the prince, kept quiet a space of years.

Called

And came to reign, after uncommon quiet, And had his will upon the dagger-players :

wedding ceremonial cerements.

Who

winked

Does

loyal

murder

homage

Dig up Camoens

he and the dug-up corpse

kisses the dead hand,

Que

despois de ser morta foy Rainha."

" That once as Proserpine Gatheredst thy soul's light fruit, and every blindness Thy Enna the flary mead-land of Mondego. Long art thou sung by maidens in Mondego." What have we now of her, his " linda Ignez"! Houtmans in jail for debt in Lisbon, how long after,

;

Contrives a company, the Dutch eat Portugal, Follow her ships tracks. Roemer Vischer's daughters Talking some Greek, dally with glass engraving Vondel, the Eglantine, Dutch Renaissance. :

The old tale out of fashion, daggers gone, And Gaby wears Braganza on her throat, Another

pearl, tied to a public gullet.

I knew a man, flat corn-lands run mile on mile, Born on a farm, he hankered after painting, His father kept him at work, no luck, Married and got four sons, Three died, the fourth he sent to Paris. And this son

Ten Ten

years of Julians' and the ateliers, years of life, his pictures in the salons,

Name coming

in the press

;

and when Back once again

knew him

middle Indiana,

Acting as usher in the theatre, Painting the local drug-shop and soda bars,

The

local doctor's fancy for a mantle-piece: flea-bit backs.

Sheep jabbing the wool upon their " Them Them !

sheep

goddamd sheep 27

" !

Adoring Puvis,

Giving his family back what they had spent on him, Talking Italian cities, Local excellence at Perugia ; dreaming his renaissance,

Take my

Bordello

Ill

one, half-cracked: John Heydon, dealer in levitation,

Worker of miracles,

ANOTHER

" Servant of God and secretary of nature," The half transparent forms, in trance at Bulverton "Decked all in green," with sleeves of yellow silk

the elbow, slashed with various purples, Her eyes were green as glass, (Thus Dangling a chain of emeralds, promised him Her foot was leaf-like, and she promised him Slit to

in his vision.)

The way of holiest wisdom.

" Omniformis

Omnis intellectus est " thus he begins " By spouting half of Psellus no, not Daemonibus," But Porphyry's "Chances," the ijth chapter, :

;

That every intellect is omniform. " A daemon is a substance in the locus of souls."

Munching

Ficino's

mumbling

Platonists.

earth and sounder rhetoric, Prefacing praise to his Pope, Nicholas man of parts skilled in the subtlest sciences ; patron of the arts, of poetry ; and of a fine discernment. Valla,

A A A "

catalogue, his jewels of conversation. " then the Roman speech a sacrament

Know

Spread for the nations, eucharist of wisdom, Bread of the liberal arts.

Ha Sir Blancatz, Sordello would have your heart up, give it to all the princes Valla, the heart of Rome, !

sustaining speech, " Nee bonus Set out before the people. " " ac bonus Tullianus." Christianus (in the Elegantiae)

;

Shook the church.

Marius,

Bellay,

wept for the

buildings ; Baldassar Castiglione saw Raphael c< Lead back the soul into its dead, waste dwelling," Lorenzo Valla Laniato corpore.

" Broken

middle

Bent to submission?

life?

Took

a fat living from the Papacy (That's in Villari, but Burckhardt's statement's different). " " More than the Roman city the Roman speech

Holds

fast its part

among

the ever living.

" Not by the eagles only was

" Wherever the

Roman

Rome

measured."

speech was, there was

Rome."

Wherever

the speech crept, there was mastery, with the law's voice, while your greek logicians. Spoke

" " More greeks than one Doughty's Divine Homeros Came before sophistry. Justinopolitan, uncatalogued, One Andreas Divus gave him in latin, In Officina Wecheli, M.D. three " eight, !

Caught up his cadence, word and syllable " Down to the ships we went, set mast and Black keel and beasts for bloody sacrifice, :

sail,

Weeping we went." I've strained

And u

cracked

my my

ear for -ensa, -ombra, and -ensa, wit on delicate canzoni,

Here's but rough meaning

And

then went

down

to the ship, set keel to breakers,

Forth on the godly sea, We set up mast and sail on the swart ship, Sheep bore we aboard her, and our bodies also, Heavy with weeping and winds from sternward Bore us out onward with bellying canvas, ;

Circe's this craft, the trim-coifed goddess.

Then Thus Sun

wind jamming the tiller sat we amidships with stretched sail we went over sea till day's end.

to his slumber, shadows o'er all the ocean, then to the bounds of deepest water,

Came we

the Kimmerian lands and peopled cities Covered with close-webbed mist, unpierced ever

With

glitter

of sun-rays, 29

Nor with

stars stretched, nor looking back from heaven, Swartest night stretched over wretched men there, The ocean flowing backward, came we then to the place Aforesaid by Circe. Here did they rites, Perimedes and Eurylochus,

And

drawing sword from

my hip the ell-square pitkin, Poured we libations unto each the dead, First mead and then sweet wine, water mixed with white flour, Then prayed I many a prayer to the sickly death's-heads, As set in Ithaca, sterile bulls of the best For sacrifice, heaping the pyre with goods. Sheep, to Tiresias only ; black and bell sheep. I

dug

Dark blood flowed

in the fosse, Souls out of Erebus, cadaverous dead, Of brides, of youths, and of much-bearing old Virgins tender, souls stained with recent tears, Many men mauled with bronze lance-heads,

;

Battle spoil, bearing yet dreary arms,

These many crowded about me, With shouting, pallor upon me,

my men

cried to

for

beasts.

Slaughtered the herds, sheep slain of bronze, Poured ointment, cried to the gods, To Pluto the strong, and praised Proserpine,

Unsheathed the narrow sword, I sat to keep off the impetuous, impotent dead should hear Tiresias. Elpenor came, our friend Elpenor, Unburied, cast on the wide earth, Limbs that we left in the house of Circe, Till

But

first

in sepulchre, since toils urged other. cried in hurried speech

Unwept, unwrapped and

Pitiful spirit,

Elpenor,

how

Com'st thou

art

thou come to

a- foot, outstripping

this

dark coast

seamen

And "

111

fate

and abundant wine

" ?

he in heavy speech

Going down the long ladder unguarded,

fell

against the

buttress,

Shattered the nerve-nape, the soul sought Avernus. 30

slept in Circe's ingle,

But thou, O King, I bid remember me, unwept, unburied, Heap up mine arms, be tomb by sea-board, and inscribed A man oj[no fortune and with a name to come? And set my oar up, that I swung mid fellows." :

Came then another ghost, whom And then Tiresias, Theban, Holding

Man

his

ill

beat

off,

Anticlea,

golden wand, knew me and spoke why come a second time,

first

hour,

Leaving the sunlight, facing the sunless dead, and joyless region

Stand from the

And

I will

this

fosse,

move

back, leave

speak you true speeches."

Sheathing the yellow sword.

me my bloody And

bever,

stepped back,

Dark blood he drank

then,

" Lustrous Odysseus Shalt return through spiteful Neptune, over dark seas, Lose all companions." Foretold me the ways and the signs. Came then Anticlea, to whom I answered " Fate drives me on through these deeps. I sought Tiresias. Told her the news of Troy. And thrice her shadow Faded in my embrace." Lie quiet Divus. Then had he news of many faded women, Tyro, Alcmena. Chloris, Heard out their tales by that dark fosse, and sailed By sirens and thence outward and away, And unto Circe. Buried Elpenor's corpse. Lie quiet Divus, plucked from a Paris stall " Deorum With a certain Cretan's "

And

spoke

Hymni

The

thin clear

Tuscan

;

stuff

Gives way before the florid mellow Take we the goddess, Venerandam Auream coronam habentem, pulchram. Cypri munimenta sortita est, maritime, .

phrase,

Light on the foam, breathed on by Zephyrs with golden air-tending Hours, mirthful, orichalci, Girdles and breast bands, thou with dark eyelids, Bearing the golden bough of Argicida.

And

END OF THIRD CANTO 31

HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS I

of Callimachus, Coan ghosts of Philetas your grove I would walk, I who come first from the clear font Bringing the Grecian orgies into Italy, and the dance into Italy. Who hath taught you so subtle a measure, in what hall have you heard it, What foot beat out your time-bar, what water has mellowed your whistles ? It is in

SHADES

Out-weariers of Apollo

Martian

will,

we know, continue

We have kept our erasers in order, A new-fangled chariot follows the flower-hung horses A young Muse with young loves clustered about her ascends with

And

there

their

generalities.

no high-road

to the

;

into the aether,

Muses.

Annalists will continue to record Roman reputations, Celebrities from the Trans-Caucasus will belaud Roman celebrities

And expound But For

for

the distentions of Empire,

something to read in normal circumstances ? few pages brought down from the forked

unsullied

hill

ask a wreath which will not crush my head. And there is no hurry about it ;

boom after funeral, that Seeing long standing increases all things I shall

have, doubtless, a

regardless of quality.

And who would

have known the towers

pulled down by a deal-wood Or of Achilles withstaying waters by Simois Or of Hector spattering wheel-rims,

Or of Polydmantus, by Scamander,

horse

Helenus

;

and

Deiphoibos Their door-yards would scarcely know them, or Paris. Small talk O Ilion, and O Troad twice taken by Oetian gods, If Homer had not stated your case !

And

also

among

the later nephews of this city shall

With no

My And And

have

dog's day

stone

upon my contemptible sepulchre, vote coming from the temple of Phoebus in in the

Lycia, at Patara,

mean time my songs will travel, young ladies will enjoy them when they have got over the strangeness,

the devirginated

For Orpheus tamed the wild

beasts

And

and held up the Threician river ; Citharaon shook up the rocks by Thebes and danced them into a bulwark at his pleasure,

And

you,

Turn

Polyphemus

Did harsh Galatea almost

your dripping horses, because of a tune, under Aetna ? We must look into the matter. Bacchus and A polio in favour of it, There will be a crowd of young women doing homage to to

palaver,

is not propped up by Taenarian columns from Laconia (associated with Neptune and Cerberus), Though it is not stretched upon gilded beams ; My orchards do not lie level and wide as the forests of Phaecia, the luxurious and Ionian, Nor are my caverns stuffed stiff with a Marcian vintage, (My cellar does not date from Numa Pompilius, Nor bristle with wine jars)

Though my house

Yet the companions of the Muses will keep their collective nose in my books, And weary with historical data, they will turn to my dance tune.

Happy who

are mentioned in my pamphlets the songs shall be a fine tomb-stone over their beauty. But against this ? Neither expensive pyramids scraping the stars in their route,

Nor houses modelled upon that of Jove in East Nor the monumental effigies of Mausolus,

Elis,

are a complete elucidation of death.

Flame burns,

And

they

all

rain sinks into the cracks

to rack ruin beneath the

thud of the years.

Stands genius a deathless adornment, a name not to be worn out with the years.

HAD been seen in the shade, recumbent on cushioned

Helicon,

the water dripping from Bellerophon's horse, Alba, your kings, and the realm your folk have constructed with such industry Shall be

My "

yawned out on my lyre with such industry. mouth shall gobble in such great fountains

little

Whereas father Ennius, sitting before I came, hath drunk."

had rehearsed the Curian brothers, and made remarks on the Horatian javelin

(Near Q. H. Flaccus' book-stall).

"Of"

"Of" royal Aemilia, drawn on the memorial raft, the victorious delay of Fabius, and the left-handed

Of lares

fleeing the

Roman

seat

battle at

" .

And

of Hannibal,

had sung of all these

and of Jove protected by geese, 34

Cannae,

And Phoebus looking upon me from the Castalian tree, Said then "You idiot! What are you doing with that "

water ; has ordered a book about heroes

Who

You " About acquiring

need, Propertius, not think

that sort of a reputation.

" Soft fields must be worn by small wheels, " Your pamphlets will be thrown, thrown often into a chair " Where a waits alone for her lover girl

;

wrench your page out of its course? " No keel will sink with your genius "Let another oar churn the water, "Another wheel, the arena mid-crowd is as bad as mid-sea."

"Why

;

had spoken, and pointed

a place with his plectrum.

Orgies of vintages, an earthen image of Silenus Strengthened with rushes, Tegaean Pan, The small birds of the Cytharean mother their Punic faces dyed in the Gorgon's lake.

Nine

Such

girls,

from as many countrysides bearing her offerings in their unhardened hands

And

cohort and setting.

thyrsos ; Fitted song to the strings

she

bound ivy

to his

;

Roses twined in her hands. one among them looked at me with face offended,

Calliope

" Content ever to move with white swans Nor will the noise of high horses lead you ever to battle " Nor will the public criers ever have your name !

" Nor Mars shout you

in their classic horns,

in the

wood

Nor where Rome "

;

Nor where

Aeonium, ruins

German

riches,

the Rhine flows with barbarous blood, and flood carries wounded Suevi. " crowned lovers at unknown doors, Obviously " of drunken scurry, the marks a Night dogs, 35

" These are your images, and from you the sorcerizing of shut-in young ladies, " The wounding of austere men by chicane."

Thus Mistress

Calliope,

Dabbling her hands in the fount, thus she Stiffened our face with the backwash of Philetas the Coan.

Ill

and mistress

a letter

comes

me from

our

MIDNIGHT, Telling me

come

to Tibur,

up from twin towers, Anienan spring water falls into

At once

Bright tips reach

What

flat-spread pools.

to be done about it ? Shall I entrust myself to entangled shadows, bold hands may do violence to my person ?

Where Yet

if I

Nor

obedience because of this respectable terror to I shall be lamentations worse than a nocturnal assailant. prey And I shall be in the wrong, and it will last a twelve month, For her hands have no kindness me-ward,

And

there anyone to

midnight in the Via

whom

lovers are not sacred at

Sciro.

man would

be a lover he may walk on the Scythian coast, barbarism would go to the extent of doing him harm,

If any

postpone

The moon Cupid

will carry his candle, the stars will point

will carry lighted torches before

out the stumbles,

him

and keep mad dogs off 36

his ankles,

Thus

all

Who

so indecorous as to shed the pure gore of a suitor Cypris is his cicerone.

roads are perfectly safe

and

What

undertakers follow

any hour ; ?

track,

such a death is worth dying. She would bring frankincense and wreathes to my tomb, She would sit like an ornament on my pyre.

Gods'

not my bones lie in a public location with crowds too assiduous in their crossing of

aid, let

For thus

are

it;

tombs of lovers most desecrated. place cover me with its foliage beneath the hummock of some as yet uncatalogued sand ; shall not have my epitaph in a high road.

May a woody and sequestered Or may At any

1 inter

rate

DIFFERENCE OF OPINION WITH LYGDAMUS me

TELL

young

the truths which

you hear of our constant

lady,

Lygdamus,

And may For

the bought yoke of a mistress lie with equitable weight on your shoulders ; am swelled up with inane pleasurabilities and deceived by your reference To things which you think I would like to believe.

messenger should come wholly empty, and a slave should fear

Much

conversation

Out

good

with it, tell it to me, all of outstretched ears. with guzzle

it,

plausibilities

as having a

;

home.

from the beginning,

Thus ?

She wept into uncombed

hair,

And you saw

it,

Vast waters flowed from her eyes?

You, you Lygdamus

Saw her

stretched

on her bed,

it was no glimpse in a mirror her on no orfevrerie, gawds snowy hands, Sad garment draped on her slender arms. Her escritoires lay shut by the bed-feet. Sadness hung over the house, and the desolated female ;

attendants

Were

desolated because she had told

them her dreams.

She was veiled

Damp And

in the midst of that place, woolly han kerchiefs were stuffed into her undryable

eyes, a querulous

noise

responded

our

solicitous

reprobations.

For which things you

will get a

reward from me,

Lygdamus say

And

many

things

the other

equal to having a

woman " has

not enticed

home.

by her pretty manners, " She has me with herbaceous poison, caught she twiddles the spiked wheel of a rhombus, " She stews puffed frogs, snake's bones, the moulded feathers of screech owls, " She binds

with ravvles of shrouds. " Black spiders spin in her bed " Let her lovers snore at her in the morning " the gout cramp up her feet May " Does he like me to sleep here alone, Lygdamus, "Will he say nasty things at my funeral?*' !

And you

expect

to believe this after twelve

months of discomfort ?

ever

NOW

it is

time to cleanse Helicon

;

Emathian horses afield, name over the census of my chiefs in the to lead

And to Roman camp.

have not the faculty,

"The

bare attempt would be

praise-worthy."

u In things of similar magnitude the mere will to act

The

primitive ages sang Venus,

sufficient."

the last sings of a tumult,

And I also will sing war when this matter of a girl is exhausted. beak hauled ashore would proceed in a more stately manner, My Muse is eager to instruct me in a new gamut, or gambetto, Up, up my soul, from your lowly cantilation, put on a timely vigour,

with

august Fieri des

Now

for a

large-mouthed product.

Thus: " The

Euphrates denies

And " It to

And

is, I

protection to the Parthian and apologizes for Crassus," India which now gives necks think, its

your triumph," "Virgin Arabia shakes

so forth, Augustus.

her

inmost dwelling." If any land shrink into a distant seacoast, it is a mere postponement of your domination, And I shall follow the camp, I shall be duly celebrated, for singing the affairs of your cavalry. May the fates watch over my day. 2

Yet you ask on what account I write so many And whence this soft book comes into

love-lyrics

mouth.

Neither Calliope nor Apollo sung these things into genius is no more than a girl.

ear,

If she with ivory fingers drive a tune through the lyre, look at the process

How

easy the moving fingers ; if hair is mussed on her forehead, If she goes in a gleam of Cos, in a slither of dyed stuff, There is a volume in the matter ; if her eyelids sink into sleep,

There are new jobs

And

for the author, she plays with me with her shirt off, shall construct many Iliads. whatever she does or says if

And

shall spin

long yarns out of nothing,

Thus much

the fates have alloted me, and if, Maecenas, were able to lead heroes into armour, I would not, Neither would 1 warble of Titans, nor of Ossa spiked onto Olympus, Nor of causeways over Pelion, Nor of Thebes in it's ancient respectability, nor of Homer's reputation in Pergamus, Nor of Xerxes two barreled kingdom, nor of Remus and I

his royal family,

Nor of dignified Carthaginian characters, Nor of Welsh mines and the profit Marus had out of them. I

should remember Caesar's

affairs

for a

background,

Although Callimachus did without them, and without Theseus,

Without an inferno, without Achilles attended of gods, Without Ixion and without the sons of Menoetius and the Argo and without Jove's grave and the Titans.

And my Nor

ventricles

do not

palpitate to Caesarial ore rotundos y

to the tune of the Phrygian fathers.

of winds; a plowman, concerning his oxen; the sheep-feeder, of Soldier, the enumeration of wounds Sailor,

;

ewes; We, in our narrow bed, turning aside from battles Each man where he can, wearing out the day in his manner. :

3 It is

noble to die of love, and honourable to remain

uncuckolded for a season. of light women, and will not praise Homer Because Helen's conduct is u unsuitable."

And

she speaks

ill

HEN,

when, and whenever death

closes

our

eyelids,

Moving naked over Acheron

Upon the one raft, victor and conquered together, Marius and Jugurtha together, one tangle of shadows. Caesar plots against India Tigris and Euphrates shall from

now

on, flow at his bidding,

Tibet shall be full of Roman policemen, The Parthians shall get used to our statuary

and acquire a Roman religion

One

raft

Nor

on the veiled flood of Acheron, Marius and Jugurtha together.

funeral either will there be any long trail, bearing ancestral lares and images

trumpets filled with my emptiness, Nor shall it be on an Atalic bed ; The perfumed cloths shall be absent.

small plebean procession.

Enough, enough and

There

Which

in plenty be three books at my obsequies take, my not unworthy gift, to Persephone.

will I

You

will follow the bare scarified breast

Nor

will

When

;

you be weary of calling my name, nor too weary To place the last kiss on my lips

the Syrian onyx

broken.

;

" He who is now vacant dust " Was once the slave of one

passion

Give that much inscription " Death why

You, sometimes, will lament For it is a custom This care for past men,

tardily

come ?

a lost friend

Since Adonis was gored is Idalia, and the Cytharean Ran crying with out-spread hair, In vain, you call back the shade,

Vain call to unanswering shadow, In vain, Cynthia. Small talk comes from small bones.

VII happpy, night, night full of brightness ; couch made happy by my long delectations ; How many words talked out with abundant candles Struggles when the lights were taken away ; Now with bared breasts she wrestled against me,

Tunic spread

in delay

;

And she then opening my eyelids fallen in sleep, Her lips upon them and it was her mouth saying: ;

how many varied embraces, our changing Her kisses, how many, lingering on my lips. " Turn not Venus into a blinded motion, In

;

Sluggard!

arms,

Eyes are the guides of love, Helen naked coming from the bed of Menelaus, Endymion's naked body, bright bait for Diana,

Paris took

such at least

the story.

While our fates twine together, sate we our eyes with love For long night comes upon you and a day when no day returns. Let the gods lay chains upon us

;

so that no day shall unbind them. 42

Fool who would set a term to love's madness, For the sun shall drive with black horses, earth shall bring wheat from barley, The flood shall move toward the fountain

Ere love know moderations, fish shall swim in dry streams.

The

No, now while

may

be, let not the fruit

Dry wreathes drop

their petals,

their stalks are

woven

in baskets,

day we take the great breath of lovers, to

Though you

of life cease.

give

all

morrow

fate shuts us in.

your kisses

you give but a few."

Nor can

I shift

Hers

pains to other be dead,

will I

If she confers such nights

upon me, long

me many, God am I for

life,

long in years,

If she give

the time.

VIII be merciful to that unfortunate woman death will be held to your debit, time is come, the air heaves in torridity,

Or an ornamental

JOVE, The

The dry

earth pants against the canicular heat, not the root of the matter She did not respect all the gods ; Such derelictions have destroyed otheryoung ladies aforetime, And what they swore in the cupboard

But

this heat is

wind and wave scattered away.

Was Venus equal

exacerbated by the existence of a comparable

Is the

ornamental goddess 43

full

of envy

Have you contempted Juno's Pelasgian Have you denied Pallas good Or is it my tongue that wrongs you There comes,

The lo

temples, eyes ?

with perpetual ascription of graces seems, and at any rate

through perils, (so many) and of a vexed of an ultimate day. hour gentler

mooed

the

first

life,

years with averted head, drinks Nile water like a god, days fled pell mell out of Thebes,

And now Ino in her young

Andromeda was

offered to a sea-serpent

and respectably married to Perseus, Callisto, disguised as a bear,

While

What

wandered through the Arcadian was over her stars,

fates are accelerated

your

prairies

a black veil

;

your quiet hour put forward,

You may You

find interment pleasing,

And And amid

all

you succumbed

to a danger identical, charmingly identical, with Semele's, believe it, and she also will believe it,

will say that

being expert from experience, the gloried and storied beauties of Maeonia

There

shall

be none in a better

seat,

not one

denying your prestige,

Now

you may bear

stroke unperturbed, harsh as he is, may turn aside your Jove, ultimate day, Old lecher, let not Juno get wind of the matter, Or perhaps Juno herself will go under, If the young lady is taken ? fate's

There

will be, in

any

case, a stir

on Olympus.

twisted

rhombs

ceased

their

clamour

THE

accompaniment.

The scorched laurel lay in the fire-dust, And the moon still declined wholly to descend out of heaven. But the black ominous owl hoot was

And one Sails

raft bears

our

audible,

fates

on the veiled lake toward Avernus I would shed tears for two ; on Cerulean waters, spread

I shall live, if

she continue in

life,

If she dies, I shall go with her. Great Zeus, save the woman, or she will sit before your feet in a veil, and tell out the long list of her troubles.

Persephone and Dis, Dis, have mercy upon her, There are enough women in hell, women quite enough beautiful of formal the and and and Achaia, girls Pasiphae, Tyro, lope, And out of Troad, and from the Campania, Death has its tooth in the lot, Avernus lusts for the lot of them, is not eternal, no man has perennial fortune, Beauty Slow foot, or swift foot, death delays but for a season. 3

My light,

light

eyes,

you are escaped from great peril, back to great Dian's dances bearing suitable gifts, Pay up your vow of night watches to Dian goddess of virgins,

And

unto

also

pay debt,

the ten nights of your

company you have promised me. 45

light of

eyes, at an exceeding late

hour

was wandering,

ErHT, And intoxicated, And

and no servant was leading me, minute crowd of small boys came from opposite, I do not know what boys,

And I am afraid of numerical estimate, And some of them shook little torches,

And

and others held onto arrows, upon me, and they were naked, the lot of them, was given to lust.

the rest laid their chains

And one

of the

lot

" That incensed female has consigned him to our pleasure." So spoke. And the noose was over my neck. And another said " Get him plumb in the middle " " Shove along there, shove along And another broke in upon this !

thinks that

are not gods."

u And she has been waiting for the scoundrel, and in a new Sidonian night

And

cap,

with more than Arabian odours,

god knows where he has been, She could scarcely keep her eyes open enter that

much

for his bail.

Get along now

" !

were coming near to the house, and they gave another yank to my cloak, And it was morning, and I wanted to see if she was alone, and resting, And Cynthia was alone in her bed. I I

had never seen her looking so beautiful No, not when she was tunick'd

Such aspect was presented to me,

my You

will

was

in purple.

recently

emerged from

visions,

observe that pure form has 46

its

stupified.

value.

" "

You

are a very early inspector of mistresses. " think I have adopted your habits ?

Do you

There were upon the bed no signs of a voluptuous encounter,

signs of a second incumbent.

She continued " No incubus has crushed his body against me, " are for adultery. celebrated Though spirits " " And I am going to the temple of Vesta and so on. :

Since that day

have had no pleasant nights.

XI i

THE I

Escape Flee

harsh acts of your levity

Many

am hung

There

you

and many.

here, a scare-crow for lovers.

is,

like into

no escape,

Idiot,

Ranaus, desire will follow

Though

you heave into the

air

you thither, upon the gilded Pegasean

back,

Though you had the feathery sandals of Perseus you up through split air, The high tracks of Hermes would not afford you

lift

shelter.

Amor

stands

upon you, Love drives upon

lovers, on free necks.

a heavy mass

our eyes you

not the city, nothing, you plot inane schemes against me, Languidly you stretch out the snare with which I am already familiar, It is

flee,

You do

And

yet again, and newly

rumour

Rumours of you throughout

strikes

ears

the city,

and no good rumour among them. "

You

should not believe hostile tongues," "Beauty is slander's cock-shy," " All lovely women have known this," <c Your glory is not outblotted by venom," " Phoebus our witness, your hands are unspotted,"

down Helen's kingdom. and she was lead back, living, home The Cytharean brought low by Mars' lechery foreign lover brought

reigns in respectable heavens,

Oh, oh, and enough of

The Muses

;

this,

clinging to the

by dew-spread mossy ridges

caverns,

;

to the ledge of the rocks

;

Zeus' clever rapes, in the old days,

Of how

combusted Semele's, of lo strayed. the bird flew from Trojan rafters, Ida has lain with a shepherd, she has slept between sheep.

Not

Even there, no escape the Hyrcanian seabord, not in seeking the shore of Eos.

All things are forgiven for one night of your games. Though you walk in the Via Sacra, with a peacock's

tail

for

a fan.

XII

who

WHO,

will be the next

man

to entrust his girl

to a friend?

Love

interferes with fidelities

;

The gods have brought shame on their relatives Each man wants the pomegranite for himself; ;

Amiable and harmonious people are pushed incontinent into duels,

A Trojan

and adulterous person came to Menelaus under the rites of hospitium, there was a case in Colchis, Jason and that woman in Colchis ;

And

besides, Lynceus,,

you were drunk. Could you endure such promiscuity ? She was not renowned for fidelity ; But to jab a knife in my vitals, to have passed on a swig of poison, Preferable,

my dear boy, my dear Lynceus, Comrade, comrade of my life, of my purse, of my person But in one bed, in one bed alone, my dear Lynceus. I deprecate your attendance I would ask a like boon of Jove.

;

And you write You write of

who contended with Hercules, Adrastus' horses and the funeral rites of

of AchelOus,

Achenor,

And you

You

will not leave off imitating Aeschylus. Though you make a hash of Antimachus,

think you are going to do

And

Of all

these

still

Homer.

a girl scorns the gods,

young women not one has enquired the cause of the world,

Nor

the

After

modus of lunar eclipses Nor whether there be any cross the infernal ripples, nor if the thunder

Nor anything

Upon

else

fall

left

of us

from predestination

;

of importance.

the Actian marshes Virgil is Phoebus* chief of police, He can tabulate Caesar's great ships.

thrills to Ilian

arms, shakes the Trojan weapons of Aeneas, casts stores on Lavinian beaches.

And

patch

Make

way, ye

For

much

Roman

authors,

O ye Greeks, of construction

clear the street

larger Iliad is in the course

Clear the streets

(and to Imperial order)

ye Greeks

him " neath Phrygian pine shade Thyrsis and Daphnis upon whittled reeds, And how ten sins can corrupt young maidens

And you

also follow

;

Happy

Kids for a bribe and pressed udders, selling poor loves for cheap apples.

Tityrus might have sung the same vixen

;

Corydon tempted Alexis, Head farmers do likewise, and lying weary amid They get praise from tolerant Hamadryads."

Go "

their oats

on, to Ascraeus' prescription, the ancient, respected, Wordsworthian flat field for rushes, grapes grow on the slope."

And

behold me, small fortune left in my house. Me, who had no general for a grandfather I shall triumph amongyoung ladies of indeterminate character, !

My And

talent acclaimed in their banquets, I shall be honoured with yesterday's wreathes.

the god strikes to the marrow.

Like a trained and performing tortoise, in your fashion, if she should command

would make verse it,

With

her husband asking a remission of sentence, And even this infamy would not attract numerous readers Were there an erudite or violent passion, For the nobleness of the populace brooks nothing below its

own altitude. One must have resonance,

resonance and sonority

like a goose. '50

Varro sang Jason's expedition, Varro, of his great passion Leucadia, There is song in the parchment; Catullus the

highly

indecorous, Of Lesbia, known above Helen ; And in the dyed pages of Calvus,

Calvus mourning Quintilia, Gallus had sung of Lycoris.

And

but

The

Fair, fairest Lycoris waters of Styx poured over the wound now Propertius of Cynthia, taking his stand

And

now

these.

among

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